


revenīre

by TiaKisu



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaKisu/pseuds/TiaKisu
Summary: Wherein Hugh is there for Paul when they bring him out of the mind-control. An alternate version of events following S3E11 "Su'Kal".
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	revenīre

**Author's Note:**

> When I re-posted this last night, I hadn't even yet watched "There Is a Tide" and already it sent me spiralling. Never before had I deleted a work I had only just uploaded, but in light of what obviously happened there the previous version of revenīre just felt wrong somehow. I even considered deleting it for good, because how much of a trauma could the mind-control be when later THAT happened? But I still wanted Hugh to be there for Paul when they bring him out of this, and fanfiction also exists to explore the WHAT IFs so I gave the adjusted piece a chance. 
> 
> To those who already read the first version and left kudos, or even commented I apologise! The premise is still the same, as is much of the dialogue, but I made many more changes than I normally would during my editing process. 
> 
> I hope you all had a lovely New Year's Eve. And may 2021 be a better year for all of us. xx

**revenīre**  
  
Hugh closes his eyes against the wave of nausea that is as disconcerting as it is expected. He really shouldn't be here, should return to sickbay and get his treatment along with Adira and the others. It would be the sensible thing to do, responsible, but it's not an option to him right now.

His right hand feels the wall he uses for support, the cool metal anchoring him until the world finally stops spinning. He has to go on. Engineering isn't far now.

In all likelihood this will have repercussions. As a senior medical officer he should know better than this, and he should definitely apologise to the nurse he pulled rank on when she desperately tried to convince him of staying in her care.

Paul, however, needs him and that is all that matters to him now. The regeneration chamber simply has to wait.

When his senses are back with him, Hugh breathes out through clenched teeth.

Just another corner. Just a few more steps.

There is barely any sound for him to hear as the doors swish open before him. His own heartbeat in his ears drowns out almost everything else.

Lingering only briefly to take in his surroundings, he notes that most of Engineering's staff have obviously been cleared. Which makes sense, he supposes.

Between the pristine medical white only very few personnel in blue can be seen. Curiously, Jett is one of them.  
For the fraction of a second he wonders why she might have stayed, but then he sees the look on her face and how she twists and turns the wedding band on her index finger - and something in him warms at the notion that, although she would never admit to it, she probably took it upon herself to watch over Paul in his stead.

Had he known that this would happen, that his actions would leave Paul alone and in danger like this, would he still have remained in the nebula – sending Burnham back alone, knowing she might not be able to return with help in time?  
Su'Kal could so easily have caused another burn. A burn that would have torn Discovery to pieces. And Paul along with it. He had to stay.

Yet, nothing can take the twinge of guilt away.

He should have been there for him.

The radiation burns of his skin sting painfully, his feet tingle from neuropathia and he needs to concentrate if he wants to avoid falling down the stairs.

Carefully, he descends. The clanging of his heavy boots should alert someone to his presence, but he cannot fault them for focusing on one person only.

On his way here he had imagined many possible sights he could meet – from the best right down to the worst. But he didn't consider this.

As he approaches the spore-cube he can finally see him. And just like this his own illness feels irrelevant, because this breaks him.

His mouth is dry, chapped lips refuse to move as he stares at milky white eyes embedded in an expressionless face.

No.

This is the worst they could have done to him.

Hugh wants to scream, to cry. To do _anything_. He wants to tear the Chain to the ground. Wants to beg Paul for forgiveness. But he is powerless.

Paul stands there, behind the interface. Rigid, catatonic, trapped. Once again.

And Hugh is watching.

Everything in him burns and aches, the radiation he was exposed to eating away at him even now. But he doesn't care or notice.

Paul is already disconnected from the drive's interface, hands hanging limply by his side. Neural sensors glow at his temples and Tracy is just about to remove something that looks vaguely like a circlet, when Hugh finds his voice and calls out to her.  
To anyone who doesn't know him he would sound authoritative. To Tracy, he knows, he is pleading.

“Let me do this.”

All of a sudden he is the centre of attention - as if he were a ghost that just appeared in their midst. The concerned looks on many of the faces now turned towards him paint quite a clear picture of his own pitiful state.

“What are you doing here?” Tracy doesn't even bother to hide her immediate frustration, and did she not still monitor Paul Hugh is rather certain she'd be all over him with a tricorder already. “You need treatment.”

“I know.”

There is a steely look in his eyes, telling her of that he is well aware of the stage he is in – and that he calculated the risks. But this is something he absolutely has to do. For Paul. And for himself.

As the others make room for him he enters the cube. He takes it as a good sign that Tracy doesn't throw him out immediately.

Under the blueish light and from up close this is even harder to bear. He needs her to understand.

“The last time he was trapped in the network... when he woke up, I was dead. I don't want him to go through this again, to think he is back _there_.”

The memories of finding Paul in the network, of his later admission that after his return he spent entire nights riddled with dreams that he woke up screaming from, and the primal fear in his eyes when Hugh had to induce coma after his injury a couple of months back – all these are way too vivid in his mind. And he cannot risk doing that to him again. He has to be here.

“Please.”

There is a long silence between them. She scrutinises him, assesses his own condition most likely. Then, finally, her expression softens.

“Headquarters transmitted every data they have on these things. We already shut it down as far as we could. In theory, removing the headpiece should end the suppression of his higher brain functions but -” she pauses, frowning.

“This tech has never been used on someone who can connect with the network?”

It's really more an observation, than a question.

The answer he gets is a mirthless smile. “There's no way to know if removing it will bring him out again. Truth is, we don't even know why it sent him back in, or if he even is in the network. His neural scans show the same patterns though.”

“That's why you've decided to keep him in here, because it helped him the last time he couldn't get out.”

Hugh had long since read up on everything that had happened back then. In the periphery of his vision he notices an ensign stand by at the console, ready to inject spores into the cube if the need for them arises, and he feels eternally grateful.

He knows she is doing everything that she can for Paul, that his partner is in safe hands with her. He would trust Tracy with Paul's life, always. Some things though, she cannot do for him.

“Thank you.”

He means it, too.

“Just promise me you'll go straight to sickbay after this. No detours anymore.”

And this is all she says to give her permission.

A tired nod is all he can muster, not certain himself if he can promise her anything at this point. If Paul doesn't wake up, if he doesn't find his way out... Hugh isn't in the network this time, he's out here and he is terrified that they'll be back at square one.

He suppresses a nervous shiver as he positions himself, just close enough that he can catch Paul in case he crashes.

The surface of the device is smooth beneath his fingers, and not at all like he would have imagined it to feel. The circlet fits perfectly on Paul's head – maybe it adjusted itself after being put in place – and comes off more easily than he expected.

The exact moment there is no point of contact anymore, Paul's legs give way beneath him.

Instantly Tracy is at his side, and together they lower him, placing his head in Hugh's lap as she projects his vitals into the air in front of them.

“Neural readings are off the chart.” She presses a hypo to his neck.

In Hugh's arms, Paul twitches.

“Had to be expected.” They have been here before, so this is not surprising to Hugh. Still he feels physically sick, whether that's because of his own radiation poisoning or having Paul like this again – it hardly matters.

“Paul,” he coos, encouragingly but there is a touch of despair in his words that he just can't muster the strength to hide, “Remember how we did this last time? Just follow my voice. You can do this.”

White eyes are searching aimlessly, a whimper breaking free from a constricted throat.

“I know you're scared.” He cards his fingers through blond hair, the broken skin of his hands leaving just the faintest trace of red in it. “I'm right here with you. It's okay, it's over. Just wake up for me, alright?”

He smiles down at him, a broken and feeble little thing on quivering lips. He doesn't want to go through this again, to watch him deteriorate as Paul wanders on a different plane – far beyond his reach.

“Hugh.” Tracy's voice is compassionate, but urging. Seeing a spare tricorder in her hands tells him everything he needs to know. She finally scanned him after all, and the results don't seem to be pretty.

With a shake of his head he brushes off her concern for him. He can stay a couple more minutes.

“He can do it! I know he can.”

His right hand is holding Paul's in an iron grip, seeking to ground him and give him something to hold on to. It comforts him, too.  
  
"He can find his way back."  
  
Hugh knows he is being irrational, and that he works on pure emotions now. So when suddenly pale fingers squeeze his, he actually doubts his own perception.

“Paul?”  
  
There it is again.  
  
"Paul!"

Before him pale blue specks begin to break through the white. The milky fog recedes from eyes he never wanted to see changed liked this again, and Hugh believes he must crumble right there and then from sheer relief. It's pure determination that keeps him upright.

“Hu- Hugh?”

Trembling fingers fly over a forehead that is wrinkling. Increasingly blue eyes are zeroing in on him, and he can see recognition dawning.

He really can't hold back the shaky laugh that wants to break free. “Yeah, I'm here.”

For a moment confusion is written all over Paul's face. His gaze is on the burns and bloody smudges of Hugh's skin, and suddenly he grows agitated.

“I... I'm sorry.” His body shakes softly with a laboured breath, leading Hugh to check the readouts frantically.

No sign of organ damage. Elevated level of stress hormones, mild tachycardia. But nothing too worrying.

“I couldn't fight it. I... I tried...”

And that's when he gets the picture.

“You were down there... I should have been able to...”

“Shh, I know.” Hugh lets his thumb stroke across smooth skin, silences Paul with this simple gesture - hoping he is too distracted to notice the broken texture of burnt fingers. It really is about time he takes more medication.

“There's nothing you could have done. And we're okay.”

Paul's breaths continue to come short and clipped. His blood pressure is sinking now, not to a dangerous degree but Hugh would be surprised if he remained conscious any longer.

“You're exhausted,” he explains softly, not doubting for a minute that Paul fought the device tooth and nail in his mind the entire time. “We'll get you to sickbay now.”

There is a renewed flicker of panic, the idea that maybe this isn't real, and Hugh is quick to reassure him. “I'll come with you. Need to go there anyway.”

His lower lip splits a little as it bends in a tender smile, but Hugh couldn't care less. While the promise of his presence alone seems to calm Paul down, he readjusts them both before nodding to Tracy to beam them over.

There is probably no point in keeping score, he muses as their molecules disentangle to be reassembled at their destination, but the universe really owes them bigly for this.


End file.
